"Well, I can understand what you mean, Sandy," he replied, "for I feel a little that way myself. But just now I was wondering where he can be, and how he makes his way across from one side of the river to the other?" "Oh! now you're speaking of the mysterious Indian who sends those Delaware arrows every little while, and seems to mean to keep along with us, just like he was a shadow?" the other returned. "Hardly that, Sandy," said Bob, "because you can see a shadow; but never once up to now have either of us set eyes on this queer friend who likes to work in secret. Think of how far away from his village he must have wandered; and it begins to look as if we might have him around to protect us even after we get to our new home down below." "I heard father speaking about another difficulty we have ahead of us, which is the falls of the Ohio, down about where Harrodsburg lies," Bob went on presently. "Oh! will we have to abandon our fine flatboat there, and take up the journey on foot?" cried Sandy, to whom the thought of a falls meant some grand cataract, like the famous one at Niagara, of which he had heard many times. "Well, if there is water enough in the river, we expect to pass right through; but, if there seems to be any danger, father says he will anchor the boat above, and either investigate the conditions himself, or find some man who knows the channel. Hunters and trappers are used to passing down that way, and shoot through without bothering themselves about danger. And we'll get along all right, I guess, Sandy." "Then the falls aren't so very high, after all?" asked the other, heaving a sigh of genuine relief. "Oh! no," laughed Bob; "they are what some hunters call rapids. At high water you'd never know they were there, Pat says. He has seen the place only once, and never shot them, so father could hardly depend on him for a pilot. But you wait and see. We are in too great luck to get wrecked on the rocks like that. There will be a way for us to get through." Several days later they saw smoke ashore, and discovered a party of hunters in camp. They were a hardy lot, ready to fight Indians as cheerfully as they were willing to shoot deer or buffalo. The flatboat was anchored as close to the shore as seemed wise, and Mr. Armstrong invited the others to come out and visit; but they said they had no boat. One of them Pat immediately recognized. "Sure that looks like me ould frind, Jo Davies," he remarked; and the man hearing what he said, called back: "Just who it is, Pat O'Mara, and glad to see you again." Thereupon Pat became wild to take the boat and go ashore after the hunter who had more than once been in his company when on the trail, or a trapping expedition. Of course, by this time Pat's lame ankle had mended so that he could walk about as well as ever, though for perhaps a whole year he would have to favor the left foot a little, when he could.